


A Fire to Love

by danyslemons



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Azor Ahai, Bittersweet Ending, Dany and Sansa are Soulmates, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Headcanon, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, POV Daenerys, Sansa is Queen in the North, Self-Sacrifice, The House with the Red Door, The War for the Dawn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 15:50:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14814317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danyslemons/pseuds/danyslemons
Summary: Caught between being a prophetic saviour and a young girl, Dany finally finds the peace and happiness she has longed for since the half-remembered days in Braavos with Sansa Stark - even if it is only for a short while.





	A Fire to Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a small headcanon that I have for the resolution of Daenerys Targaryen's journey in ASOIAF. In my mind, this would take place over the course of "A Dream of Spring".  
> Dany and Sansa are my first and second favourite characters in ASOIAF respectively, so I hope that other Dany/Sansa fans are pleased by this piece. This fic is Daenerys-centric because I wanted to focus on the duality of her character and the heartbreaking but glorious conclusion that I believe will end her arc -- plus I love her with all my heart and wanted to share how I feel about her through writing.  
> I hope you all enjoy this and please send me all your comments/criticisms :)

         Her eyes were still blurry with tears, stinging, the sharp wind making icy streaks down her cheeks and neck. Daenerys Targaryen roughly rubbed at her face with the thick sleeve of her overcoat as she mounted Drogon. She could only glance back over her shoulder to catch piercing blue eyes, red hair wild in the snowy air and pink lips – a mere moment yet somehow suspended in time – before her winged black leapt into the sky. The eyes, the hair, the lips were already leagues and leagues away from Dany, back down in the Winterfell courtyard.

         “You will come back to me.” Dany could still feel Sansa’s hands fiercely grasping the sides of her face, their hair tangling together, remembering how she had peered up at her beloved through lashes thick with tears. “I’ll send for lemon seeds while you’re gone. I’ll have the glass houses prepared. We will even travel to Braavos. We will.” 

         The words weren’t true, Dany and Sansa knew. They couldn’t be – at least not now. But hearing them made their parting a little easier. It wouldn’t convince the gods to have mercy, Dany’s fate in the valleys beyond the Wall had been sealed since her birth amongst blood and fire far across sea and grass but … perhaps it would allow them to have all those things in another life. 

                                                    

* * *

 

         Sansa Stark’s beauty had left Dany feeling lightheaded the first time she laid eyes on her in the Eyrie. Dany had been expecting an older man, a younger man, an ugly man, anyone other than the Lady of the Vale who had received her when she had first arrived in Westeros. An alliance was what Daenerys Targaryen had planned on making when she entered the Vale, but Dany had made something far more precious than she had ever hope to imagine by the time she left the fortress.

         The two women – girls, really – had laughed over lemon cakes, their favourite childhood romances, stories of their siblings that seemed like a lifetime ago. Sansa listened with a hand over Dany’s as the silver-haired queen confessed that she could hardly remember what her brother or Ser Willem looked like, never knew how it felt to have her mother braid her hair. They traced each other’s skin where their pasts had left their marks. Dany stared into Sansa’s sapphire eyes, bewildered and enchanted and …. _sad_ , as Sansa spoke about her wolf named Lady, the terrors of King’s Landing, the loneliness and fear that seemed to have swallowed her whole when she became the last of her family alive in the world.

         _“_ You and I, we seem to have much in common. The last Targaryen … The last Stark … perhaps we shall remake our Houses … the world when all is said and done,” Dany had said with a wry smile and small exhale, their fingers laced.

         The smile Sansa had given Dany, lighting her eyes up in an almost impossible way, burned into Dany’s memory.

         The two girls had stayed in the Eyrie for a time. Dany had lost herself in the tapestries, the statues in the courtyard where Sansa liked to build snowcastles and, most of all, Sansa’s arms. The crushing weight of the conquest, the duty that she felt to the dead of House Targaryen, the insatiable need to return to King’s Landing – to the Iron Throne – in the belief that it will bring her closer to her mother, her brother … will allow her to feel them, seemed to slip off Dany’s shoulders. Their time together, living in a daze and forgetting about their separate journeys northwards and southwards, came to end with shared whispers and soft kisses.

         “I will make sure to visit you when you reclaim your family home, Lady Stark,” Dany had quirked her mouth with added emphasis when speaking Sansa’s title.

         “And I will await you when you reclaim your family throne, Queen Daenerys,” Sansa looked down, grasped Dany’s hands in her own, and looked back into violet eyes with a firmer gaze, “I … I hope that this is what you want, however … The way you spoke about the Iron Throne, the queenship … You don’t need those things. To make your mother proud. To be Dany. I know you feel that you must do it, that you must be Queen to be worth something but there are other things that you want, and you know that.”

         Sansa’s parting words had a resounding impact. Dany knew Sansa was right, and so did Sansa. Even after only days spent together, Sansa could map out the depths of Dany’s heart and calm the storminess of her unsettled soul. As Dany fought in the fields of southern Westeros, stood paralyzed in horror as castles in the capital were enveloped in what could only be wildfire, witnessed the deaths of her protectors and a boy claiming to be the lost son of her eldest brother, watched as dragons and war lay waste to the countryside, brought about the downfall of an evil man who dared try to use her for his own malicious gains … it became more apparent to Dany that no throne, no title, no empty hall built by House Targaryen that would echo with the sounds of only her footsteps could ever satisfy the longing she had felt since she was taken from Braavos _. Daenerys Targaryen wants to be a protector_ , she thought _, but I needed to be a girl first._ She became a conqueror and a ruler without ever being a child, never having the chance to learn, thrown head first into leading and hoping she made the right – _the best_ – decision. Dany needed to be barefoot and breathless, with time to recover and come to terms with the pain and isolation she had kept buried underneath silks and crowns and titles. Sansa’s words rang loud in her ears, throughout every fibre of her body, when Dany finally cast aside her brother’s dream that she had for too long pretended to be her own.

 

* * *

 

         That was until the ice. The winter. The stories of undead armies ravaging the Wall, the Night’s Watch, the towns of the North. _Dany can wait a little longer,_ she thought to herself, _Daenerys Targaryen is needed for one last fight_.

         The fighting was everywhere. Battle had consumed Westeros. And yet, it did not shock Dany. This new war was familiar to her, she had seen it countless times: in the fever dreams that took her when she lost Rhaego, in the visions that Quaithe had sent her, in the labyrinth of the House of the Undying. The ice and the cold and the enemy armoured in ice had plagued her nightmares for years.

         Dany was on the Trident, commanding her children from Drogon’s back, bathing the icy enemy host in dragonfire while her allies and Jon Snow – _my nephew, no, my brother,_ Dany thought with a warmth spreading throughout her chest, _the brother I always wished Viserys had been_ – fought on the ground when she realized. When she finally _realized_. For so long she had been unsure of what to make of the signs, the visions and the magic, never knowing what they had meant. It had been a slow process of understanding, but now, as she destroyed the opposing force high up in the sky upon her dragon, as her fire melted away the ice, understanding came quickly.

         _It’s me. It can only be me._ Dany looked to the armies on the ground, so desperately trying to hold off the Others as she and her dragons so easily fended them off. _Without me and my dragons, they would stand no chance. I have to be the one to end it. The icy breath I have been running from has finally caught me … My dream of resting after this war, growing old with Sansa, is just that: a dream. But now I have awakened._

         When the battle finally receded for the day, the icy enemy retreating, unable to withstand the constant fiery barrage of Dany and her children, the exhausted host of ravaged men and women rested. It was there, in the dim light of Jon’s tent with only three candles to see the tired glow of his grey eyes, that Dany told him she was leaving. He pleaded, tried to make her stay, that she and her dragons were needed _here_ , that _he_ needed _her_ here, that he wanted to keep her safe … that she didn’t have to do this _alone_. But Dany simply held his hand, held his gaze in the solemn silence of the night and tried to explain as quickly yet as slowly as she could. If Jon hadn’t had his own experiences with visions and prophecies and death, felt the chill of foreboding hanging over his head all his life as she did, Dany knew he would never understand her. But he did.

         “If I make it through this, I will make sure everyone knows of your sacrifice. I will do everything I can, Daenerys, I promise. I promise you.” Her nephew had said earnestly.

         “I … I’m not doing this so that children will sing songs about me, I’m doing this because it’s the only way. I won’t be able to live with myself if I knew I had the power to save those children and did nothing. After all the warring, everything ... what right do I have to shy from death when my campaign, this war brought death upon so many?" Dany spoke bitterly, feeling hot tears well behind her eyes and guilt rising from the pit of her stomach. "But thank you, Jon. Even though you are a true Stark, I take comfort knowing that our family will not die with me.” Jon had pulled her into a strong embrace then, smoothed the silver hair away from her face when he released her.

Dany had returned to her tent to press a soft kiss to Missandei’s forehead, to retrieve the three-headed dragon crown given to her so long ago and thrust it into Jon’s hands, urging him to use it to ensure Missandei’s safety, passage home … anything. He calmed her worries as he helped Dany into her saddle on Drogon’s back, fussing at the straps and belts even though they were already secured.

         “My sister has refused to leave the walls of Winterfell and abandon the North. Sansa … she remains there.” Dany caught the sad smile playing on Jon’s lips. _Maybe a last plea. Maybe he thinks that Sansa could be the one to convince me to end my quest, to stay. Sansa would never try to stop me if I told her why I was going, but I can’t bear to leave the world without ever setting eyes on her again._

         “Do you want me to return to your fair sister for my own sake or so that I can send your love and that letter you have so unceremoniously stuffed in your sleeve to Satin?” Dany countered playfully, brightening Jon’s sad smile.

         Jon stammered over half-hearted excuses as he blushed furiously, placing the thick parchment letter in Dany’s hand and holding on to her fingers for a moment. _If only we could have been together when we were young, with Rhaella, Elia, Lyanna … Aegon, Rhaenys, even Viserys. Life would have been so much sweeter._

 

* * *

 

When Dany arrived at Winterfell a day later, she ran into Sansa’s outstretched arms, the taller girl nearly swooping her off the ground from the force of their collision. There was nothing but the tangling of arms and brushing of fingers and meeting of lips again and again and again for a what seemed to be eternity. _But not nearly as long as I would like,_ Dany thought. Sansa had led Dany to her chambers with her hand defensively grasping Dany’s own, an act that warded off anyone to dare try to take the silver-haired girl from her – Dany had to softly pry herself from Sansa’s grip, giggling, to deliver Jon’s letter to Satin. They lay together on Sansa’s bed, turned to one another, as Dany unleashed everything that had been running through her mind since the moment of realization back on the Trident. As she spoke, outlining the chain of events that have shaped her life since the first night she dreamt of a dragon engulfing her in flames, it all became even more clear to her.

         “I’m the only one who can. My dragons … I thought they were given to me to love or to … to protect me, even when they were just eggs they made me feel safe. But they were given to me to use as a weapon … to protect other people against ...” Dany had said after a while and her voice trailing off into nothing, their tears had finally subsided and breathing evened. She was tracing the lines in Sansa’s hands when she looked up, “I thought I had more time.”

         “We have tonight.” Sansa’s voice broke.

         Dany moved closer to Sansa, her lips speaking into Sansa’s collarbone as she rested her head on Sansa’s shoulder. “When I was alone, out in the Dothraki Sea, I was so scared. I wasn’t – I wasn’t scared of death, but I was scared that no one would mourn me. I have – I had no family … no one who truly loved me. Not for so long. I never thought I would have it.” Dany tilted her head back to look into blue eyes. “But now I do. I have _you_.”

         They lost themselves in one another, their words and comforting caresses. They lost themselves as if they only had a small time left to be with one another, as if the world was crashing down around them, as if this was the last time they would see each other’s faces, as if they would never hear the other’s voice speak their names again. Because it was, it was all those things. And when they woke in the early dawn, Sansa helped Dany dress, layering her in shifts and dresses and cloaks, pinning a direwolf brooch beside one shaped like a dragon’s head at the base of Dany’s collar.

         “You’re a rescuer, Dany, a protector. I wish that I could protect you.”

         Dany caught Sansa’s hand, looking into her eyes with fierce determination – _if there was one thing Sansa needed to know, she needed to know this._ “ _You_ rescued _me_ , Sansa.”

         “Dany, I – ”

         “Please, you need to know this.” Dany took a deep breath, “for years I felt as though I have been spread in a million directions – a girl, a queen, a conqueror, a mother, a bringer of ruin. But you helped me see, you _made_ me see. Who I am. Truly – no Iron Throne, no crown, none of that matters. Without you, I would have fallen into an abyss, drowning for the rest of my life. You _found_ me, _you_ rescued _me_.”

         Their “I love you’s” mingled as their foreheads pressed together, taking one last moment of contentment, of love, as the early morning light began to flicker in the red of Sansa’s hair.

         “I thought we would remake the world together,” Dany spoke softly.

         “You will save it, and I will rebuild it. For the both of us. You will be in everything I do. You will be the air that I breathe, the rain that falls, the sun that touches the earth. You will not be gone; you will be here. With me. _Always_.”

 

* * *

 

_This lifetime wasn’t for us. At least not now._

           No matter how much she wanted to command Drogon to turn around, to fly back to Winterfell, to return to the arms of her other half, Dany did not. She steeled her heart against the fear that seized her and shook her body violently, reminding herself that she is warmth and light and life, that she is the last dragon, that she must have fire in her eyes when she brings about this Great Other’s demise. When she meets her own end.

            _A fire to love_ , Dany heard the distant voices of the Undying whisper. She thought of all the little children with thousands of days ahead of them to play and read silly stories and think they could be true, of Jon with windswept curls returning to Satin, the men and women tirelessly fighting finally putting down their swords and daggers and ripped armour, of the Westerosi cities spared from further harm but allowed to grow, to heal, because of her sacrifice. Of Sansa. Of Sansa on the Winterfell Throne, of Sansa reuniting with her siblings, back in the warm embrace of her wolfpack. Of Sansa leading her children into the godswood. Of Sansa watching her grandchildren dance to her favourite melodies during a banquet, surrounded by golden candlelight and platters of lemon cakes, with fond eyes and grey-tinged hair. If her life had to end to ensure that their lives continued, Dany would walk into death's outstretched arms without hesitation.  _Who am I to refuse when my death will protect life, will protect peace, will protect love? I am Mhysa and the Breaker of Chains; I_ _will not refuse_ , Dany chanted.  _A fire to love, yes. For love._

 _This lifetime wasn’t for us._ But now, as Dany flew over the sheets of snow in the eerie quiet of the Heart of Winter, she had someone to light her pyre and to hold on to her memory, something she didn’t have in Pentos, Qarth, Meereen, the tall grasslands of the Dothraki Sea. And that, that gave Dany the strength to grip Drogon’s reins harder and push further north.

 _Maybe,_ Dany thinks, _Sansa and I found our peace in another time. Maybe the gods will allow us to reunite in death. In many years from now, I hope. She deserves a long life; she deserves to see House Stark strong again, she will be a good ruler – a great one. I can wait for Sansa, I would wait a thousand years for her … so long as, in the end, it’s her and I in the house with the red door. As long as her face is the last thing I see when the stars go out, when the sun dies, when the moon cracks and when all life seeps from existence._

           As the Mother of Dragons, the Bride of Dragons, the Daughter of Dragons – as Dany – rained down her dragons’ wrath, encasing both herself and her foe within fire, visions passed before her eyes. _Red priests singing, pebbles beneath her feet as she runs through Braavos, the feel of cool silk slipping between her fingers._ She was falling, falling, falling, but Dany couldn’t feel it. _A stirring in her belly, the sound of ripping and the sprouting of wings from her back, warmth licking at her body as loud cracking noises erupt in her ears_. As the life faded from her, the visions came more quickly. _A harp playing softly, the weight of a whip in her hand, running her hands through Missandei’s hair, twirling amongst stars, seeing Sansa’s bright blue eyes … Soft leathery hands brushing her cheek, long and lean fingers outlining her lower lip, climbing the branches of a lemon tree._

           Dany didn’t know if she was dead or dreaming, if she was in this world or the next, but all she saw were two figures – a woman, long and lithe, and a man, short and round – standing in front of a great old oaken door painted red. Her heart lurched at unspoken promises of love, of rest, of laughter and of time to watch trees grow. And here, in the house with the red door, wherever it was, with nothing but peace and lemon trees, Dany could wait happily, knowing Sansa will return to her.

**Author's Note:**

> Some Dansa songs that fit the theme of this fic:  
> \-- "Heaven" by Beyoncé  
> \-- "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron 
> 
> I just wanted to take the opportunity to thank Chloe, Avery, Amparo, Jess and Hope for all of their help when I was writing this! You were all so wonderful and supportive, I wouldn't have mustered up the courage to finish and publish this without you. I love and appreciate all of you so much! Also, check out Hope's account (aryastcrks) for some really amazing writing!
> 
> A side-note, Dany's arc is inspired by this meta: http://goodqueenaly.tumblr.com/post/165302265798/why-youve-the-obsession-of-a-second-field-of


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